Though the infidelities of C—— C—— made me look at her with other eyes than before, and I had now no intention of making her the companion of my life, I could not help feeling that it had rested with me to stop her on the brink2 of the stream, and I therefore considered it my duty always to be her friend.
If I had been more logical, the resolution I took with respect to her would doubtless have been of another kind. I should have said to myself: After seducing3 her, I myself have set the example of infidelity; I have bidden her to follow blindly the advice of her friend, although I knew that the advice and the example of M—— M—— would end in her ruin; I had insulted, in the most grievous manner, the delicacy5 of my mistress, and that before her very eyes, and after all this how could I ask a weak woman to do what a man, priding himself on his strength, would shrink from at tempting6? I should have stood self-condemned, and have felt that it was my duty to remain the same to her, but flattering myself that I was overcoming mere7 prejudices, I was in fact that most degraded of slaves, he who uses his strength to crush the weak.
The day after Shrove Tuesday, going to the casino of Muran, I found there a letter from M—— M— — who gave me two pieces of bad news: that C—— C—— had lost her mother, and that the poor girl was in despair; and that the lay-sister, whose rheum was cured, had returned to take her place. Thus C—— C—— was deprived of her friend at a time when she would have given her consolation8, of which she stood in great need. C—— C— — it seemed, had gone to share the rooms of her aunt, who, being very fond of her, had obtained permission from the superior. This circumstance would prevent the ambassador taking any more suppers with her, and I should have been delighted if chance had put this obstacle in his path a few days sooner.
All these misfortunes seemed of small account com pared with what I was afraid of, for C—— C—— might have to pay the price for her pleasures, and I so far regarded myself as the origin of her unhappiness as to feel bound never to abandon her, and this might have involved me in terrible complications.
M—— M—— asked me to sup with her and her lover on the following Monday. I went and found them both sad — he for the loss of his new mistress, and she because she had no longer a friend to make the seclusion9 of the convent pleasant.
About midnight M. de Bemis left us, saying in a melancholy10 manner that he feared he should be obliged to pass several months in Vienna on important diplomatic business. Before parting we agreed to sup together every Friday.
When we were alone M—— M—— told me that the ambassador would be obliged to me if in the future I would come to the casino two hours later. I understood that the good-natured and witty11 profligate12 had a very natural prejudice against indulging his amorous13 feelings except when he was certain of being alone.
M. de Bemis came to all our suppers till he left for Vienna, and always went away at midnight. He no longer made use of his hiding- place, partly because we now only lay in the recess14, and partly because, having had time to make love before my arrival, his desires were appeased15. M—— M—— always found me amorous. My love, indeed, was even hotter than it had been, since, only seeing her once a week and remaining faithful to her, I had always an abundant harvest to gather in. C—— C——‘s letters which she brought to me softened17 me to tears, for she said that after the loss of her mother she could not count upon the friendship of any of her relations. She called me her sole friend, her only protector, and in speaking of her grief in not being able to see me any more whilst she remained in the convent, she begged me to remain faithful to her dear friend.
On Good Friday, when I got to the casino, I found the lovers over- whelmed with grief. Supper was served, but the ambassador, downcast and absent, neither ate nor spoke18; and M—— M—— was like a statue that moves at intervals19 by some mechanism20. Good sense and ordinary politeness prevented me from asking any questions, but on M—— M—— leaving us together, M. de Bemis told me that she was distressed22, and with reason, since he was obliged to set out for Vienna fifteen days after Easter. “I may tell you confidentially,” he added, “that I believe I shall scarcely be able to return, but she must not be told, as she would be in despair.” M—— M—— came back in a few minutes, but it was easy to see that she had been weeping.
After some commonplace conversation, M. de Bernis, seeing M—— M—— still low-spirited, said,
“Do not grieve thus, sweetheart, go I must, but my return is a matter of equal certainty when I have finished the important business which summons me to Vienna. You will still have the casino, but, dearest, both friendship and prudence23 make me advise you not to come here in my absence, for after I have left Venice I cannot depend upon the faith of the gondoliers in my service, and I suspect our friend here cannot flatter himself on his ability to get reliable ones. I may also tell you that I have strong reasons for suspecting that our intercourse24 is known to the State Inquisitors, who conceal25 their knowledge for political reasons, but I fancy the secret would soon come to light when I am no longer here, and when the nun26 who connives27 at your departure from the convent knows that it is no longer for me that you leave it. The only people whom I would trust are the housekeeper28 and his wife. I shall order them, before I go, to look upon our friend here as myself, and you can make your arrangements with them. I trust all will go well till my return, if you will only behave discreetly30. I will write to you under cover of the housekeeper, his wife will give you my letters as before, and in the same way you may reply. I must needs go, dearest one, but my heart is with you, and I leave you, till my return, in the hands of a friend, whom I rejoice to have known. He loves you, he has a heart and knowledge of the world, and he will not let you make any mistakes.”
M—— M—— was so affected31 by what the ambassador had said that she entreated32 us to let her go, as she wished to be alone and to lie down. As she went we agreed to sup together on the following Thursday.
As soon as we were alone the ambassador impressed me with the absolute necessity of concealing34 from her that he was going to return no more. “I am going,” said he, “to work in concert with the Austrian cabinet on a treaty which will be the talk of Europe. I entreat33 you to write to me unreservedly, and as a friend, and if you love our common mistress, have a care for her honour, and above all have the strength of mind to resist all projects which are certain to involve you in misfortune, and which will be equally fatal to both. You know what happened to Madame de Riva, a nun in the convent of St. ——. She had to disappear after it became known that she was with child, and M. de Frulai, my predecessor35, went mad, and died shortly after. J. J. Rousseau told me that he died of poison, but he is a visionary who sees the black side of everything. For my part, I believe that he died of grief at not being able to do anything for the unfortunate woman, who afterwards procured36 a dispensation from her vows37 from the Pope, and having got married is now living at Padua without any position in society.
“Let the prudent39 and loyal friend master the lover: go and see M—— M—— sometimes in the parlour of the convent, but not here, or the boatmen will betray you. The knowledge which we both have that the girls are in a satisfactory condition is a great alleviation40 to my distress21, but you must confess that you have been very imprudent. You have risked a terrible misfortune; consider the position you would have been in, for I am sure you would not have abandoned her. She had an idea that the danger might be overcome by means of drugs but I convinced her that she was mistaken. In God’s name, be discreet29 in the future, and write to me fully41, for I shall always be interested in her fate, both from duty and sentiment.”
We returned together to Venice, where we separated, and I passed the rest of the night in great distress. In the morning I wrote to the fair afflicted42, and whilst endeavouring to console her to the best of my ability, I tried to impress on her the necessity for prudence and the avoidance of such escapades as might eventually ruin us.
Next day I received her reply, every word of which spelt despair. Nature had given her a disposition43 which had become so intensified44 by indulgence that the cloister45 was unbearable46 to her, and I foresaw the hard fights I should have to undergo.
We saw each other the Thursday after Easter, and I told her that I should not come to the casino before midnight. She had had four hours to pass with her lover in tears and regrets, amongst which she had often cursed her cruel fate and the foolish resolution which made her take the veil. We supped together, and although the meal was a rich and delicate one we did it little honour. When we had finished, the ambassador left, entreating47 me to remain, which I did, without thinking at all of the pleasures of a party of two, for Love lighteth not his torch at the hearts of two lovers who are full of grief and sorrow. M—— M—— had grown thin, and her condition excited my pity and shut out all other feelings. I held her a long time in my arms, covering her with tender and affectionate kisses, but I shewed no intention of consoling her by amusements in which her spirit could not have taken part. She said, before we parted, that I had shewn myself a true lover, and she asked me to consider myself from henceforth as her only friend and protector.
Next week, when we were together as usual, M. de Bemis called the housekeeper just before supper, and in his presence executed a deed in my behalf, which he made him sign. In this document he transferred to me all rights over the contents of the casino, and charged him to consider me in all things as his master.
We arranged to sup together two days after, to make our farewells, but on my arrival I found by herself, standing48 up, and pale as death, or rather as white as a statue of Carrara marble.
“He is gone,” she said, “and he leaves me to your care. Fatal being, whom perchance I shall see no more, whom I thought I loved but as a friend, now you are lost to me I see my mistake. Before I knew him I was not happy, but neither was I unhappy as I now am.”
I passed the whole night beside her, striving by the most delicate attentions to soften16 her grief, but with out success. Her character, as abandoned to sorrow as to pleasure, was displayed to me during that long and weary night. She told me at what hour I should come to the convent parlour, the next day, and on my arrival I was delighted to find her not quite so sad. She shewed me a letter which her lover had written to her from Trevisa, and she then told me that I must come and see her twice a week, warning me that she would be accompanied sometimes by one nun and sometimes by another, for she foresaw that my visits would become the talk of the convent, when it became known that I was the individual who used to go to mass at their church. She therefore told me to give in another name, to prevent C—— C——‘s aunt from becoming suspicious.
“Nevertheless,” she added, “this will not prevent my coming alone when I nave49 any matter of importance to communicate to you. Promise me, sweetheart, to sup and sleep at the casino at least once a week, and write me a note each time by the housekeeper’s wife.”
I made no difficulty in promising50 her that much.
We thus passed a fortnight quietly enough, as she was happy again, and her amorous inclinations51 had returned in full force. About this time she gave me a piece of news which delighted me — namely, that C—— C—— had no longer anything to fear.
Full of amorous wishes and having to be content with the teasing pleasure of seeing one another through a wretched grating, we racked our brains to find out some way to be alone together to do what we liked, without any risk.
“I am assured,” she said, “of the good faith of the gardener’s sister. I can go out and come in without fear of being seen, for the little door leading to the convent is not overlooked by any window — indeed it is thought to be walled up. Nobody can see me crossing the garden to the little stream, which is considered unnavigable. All we want is a one-oared gondola53, and I cannot believe that with the help of money you will be unable to find a boatman on whom we may rely.”
I understood from these expressions that she suspected me of becoming cold towards her, and this suspicion pierced me to the heart.
“Listen,” said I, “I will be the boatman myself. I will come to the quay54, pass by the little door, and you shall lead me to your room where I will pass the whole night with you, and the day, too, if you think you can hide me.”
“That plan,” said she, “makes me shudder55. I tremble at the danger to which you might be exposed. No, I should be too unfortunate if I were to be the cause of your misfortune, but, as you can row, come in the boat, let me know the time as closely as possible; the trusty woman will be on the watch, and I will not keep you four minutes waiting. I will get into the boat, we will go to our beloved casino, and then we shall be happy without fearing anything.”
“I will think it over”
The way I took to satisfy her was as follows: I bought a small boat, and without telling her I went one night all by myself round the island to inspect the walls of the convent on the side of the lagune. With some difficulty I made out a little door, which I judged to be the only one by which she could pass, but to go from there to the casino was no small matter, since one was obliged to fetch a wide course, and with one oar52 I could not do the passage in less than a quarter of an hour, and that with much toil56. Nevertheless, feeling sure of success, I told my pretty nun of the plan, and never was news received with so much pleasure. We set our watches together, and fixed57 our meeting for the Friday following.
On the day appointed, an hour before sunset, I betook myself to St. Francis de la Vigne, where I kept my boat, and having set it in order and dressed myself as a boatman, I got upon the poop and held a straight course for the little door, which opened the moment I arrived. M—— M—— came out wrapped in a cloak, and someone shutting the door after her she got on board my frail58 bark, and in a quarter of an hour we were at the casino. M—— M—— made haste to go in, but I stayed to belay my boat with a lock and chain against thieves, who pass the night pleasantly by stealing whatever they can lay hands on.
Though I had rowed easily enough, I was in a bath of perspiration59, which, however, by no means hindered my charming mistress from falling on my neck; the pleasure of meeting seemed to challenge her love, and, proud of what I had done, I enjoyed her transports.
Not dreaming that I should have any occasion for a change of linen60, I had brought none with me, but she soon found a cure for this defect; for after having undressed me she dried me lovingly, gave me one of her smocks, and I found myself dressed to admiration61.
We had been too long deprived of our amorous pleasures to think of taking supper before we had offered a plenteous sacrifice to love. We spent two hours in the sweetest of intoxications, our bliss62 seeming more acute than at our first meeting. In spite of the fire which consumed me, in spite of the ardour of my mistress, I was sufficiently63 master of myself to disappoint her at the critical moment, for the picture which our friend had drawn64 was always before my eyes. M—— M— — joyous65 and wanton, having me for the first time in the character of boatman, augmented66 our delights by her amorous caprices, but it was useless for her to try to add fuel to my flame, since I loved her better than myself.
The night was short, for she was obliged to return at three in the morning, and it struck one as we sat down to table. As the climax67 of ill luck a storm came on whilst we were at supper. Our hair stood on end; our only hope was founded in the nature of these squalls, which seldom last more than an hour. We were in hopes, also, that it would not leave behind it too strong a wind, as is sometimes the case, for though I was strong and sturdy I was far from having the skill or experience of a professional boatman.
In less than half an hour the storm became violent, one flash of lightning followed another, the thunder roared, and the wind grew to a gale68. Yet after a heavy rain, in less than an hour, the sky cleared, but there was no moon, it being the day after the Ascension. Two o’clock stuck. I put my head out at the window, but perceive that a contrary gale is blowing.
‘Ma tiranno del mar38 Libecchio resta.’
This Libecchio which Ariosto calls — and with good reason — the tyrant69 of the sea, is the southwesterly wind, which is commonly called ‘Garbin’ at Venice. I said nothing, but I was frightened. I told my sweetheart that we must needs sacrifice an hour of pleasure, since prudence would have it so.
“Let us set out forthwith, for if the gale gets stronger I shall not be able to double the island.”
She saw my advice was not to be questioned, and taking the key of her strong box, whence she desired to get some money, she was delighted to find her store increased fourfold. She thanked me for having told her nothing about it, assuring me she would have of me nothing but my heart, and following me she got into my boat and lay down at full length so as not to hinder its motion, I got upon the poop, as full of fear as courage, and in five minutes I had the good luck to double the point. But there it was that the tyrant was waiting for me, and it was not long before I felt that my strength would not outlast70 that of the winds. I rowed with all my strength, but all I could do was to prevent my boat from going back. For half an hour I was in this pitiful state, and I felt my strength failing without daring to say a word. I was out of breath, but could not rest a moment, since the least relaxation71 would have let the boat slip a far way back, and this would have been a distance hard to recover. M—— M—— lay still and silent, for she perceived I had no breath wherewith to answer her. I began to give ourselves up as lost.
At that instant I saw in the distance a barque coming swiftly towards us. What a piece of luck! I waited till she caught us up, for if I had not done so I should not have been able to make myself heard, but as soon as I saw her at my left hand, twelve feet off, I shouted, “Help! I will give two sequins!”
They lowered sail and came towards me, and on their hailing me I asked for a man to take us to the opposite point of the island. They asked a sequin in advance, I gave it them, and promised the other to the man who would get on my poop and help me to make the point. In less than ten minutes we were opposite to the little stream leading to the convent, but the secret of it was too dear to be hazarded, so as soon as we reached the point I paid my preserver and sent him back. Henceforth the wind was in our favour, and we soon got to the little door, where M—— M—— landed, saying to me, “Go and sleep in the casino.” I thought her advice wise, and I followed it, and having the wind behind me I got to the casino without trouble, and slept till broad day. As soon as I had risen I wrote to my dear mistress that I was well, and that we should see each other at the grating. Having taken my boat back to St. Francis, I put on my mask and went to Liston.
In the morning M—— M—— came to the grating by herself, and we made all such observations as our adventures of the night would be likely to suggest, but in place of deciding to follow the advice which prudence should have given us-namely, not to expose ourselves to danger for the future, we thought ourselves extremely prudent in resolving that if we were again threatened by a storm we would set out as soon as we saw it rising. All the same we had to confess that if chance had not thrown the barque in our way we should have been obliged to return to the casino, for M—— M—— could not have got to the convent, and how could she ever have entered its walls again? I should have been forced to leave Venice with her, and that for ever. My life would have been finally and irretrievably linked with hers, and, without doubt, the various adventures which at the age of seventy-two years impel72 me to write these Memoirs73, would never have taken place.
For the next three months we continued to meet each other once a week, always amorous, and never disturbed by the slightest accidents.
M—— M—— could not resist giving the ambassador a full account of our adventures, and I had promised to write to him, and always to write the whole truth. He replied by congratulating us on our good fortune, but he prophesied74 inevitable75 disaster if we had not the prudence to stop our intercourse.
Mr. Murray, the English ambassador, a witty and handsome man, and a great amateur of the fair sex, wine, and good cheer, then kept the fair Ancilla, who introduced me to him. This fine fellow became my friend in much the same way as M. de Bernis, the only difference being that the Frenchman liked to look on while the Englishman preferred to give the show. I was never unwelcome at their amorous battles, and the voluptuous76 Ancilla was delighted to have me for a witness. I never gave them the pleasure of mingling77 in the strife78. I loved M—— M— — but I should avow79 that my fidelity4 to her was not entirely80 dependent on my love. Though Ancilla was handsome she inspired me with repugnance81, for she was always hoarse82, and complained of a sharp pain in the throat, and though her lover kept well, I was afraid of her, and not without cause, for the disease which ended the days of Francis I. of France brought her to the grave in the following autumn. A quarter of an hour before she died, her brave Briton, yielding to the lascivious83 requests of this new Messalina, offered in my presence the last sacrifice, in spite of a large sore on her face which made her look hideous84.
This truly heroic action was known all over the town, and it was Murray himself who made it known, citing me as his witness.
This famous courtezan, whose beauty was justly celebrated85, feeling herself eaten away by an internal disease, promised to give a hundred louis to a doctor named Lucchesi, who by dint86 of mercury undertook to cure her, but Ancilla specified87 on the agreement that she was not to pay the aforesaid sum till Lucchesi had offered with her an amorous sacrifice.
The doctor having done his business as well as he could wished to be paid without submitting to the conditions of the treaty, but Ancilla held her ground, and the matter was brought before a magistrate88.
In England, where all agreements are binding89, Ancilla would have won her case, but at Venice she lost it.
The judge, in giving sentence, said a condition, criminal per se, not fulfilled, did not invalidate an agreement — a sentence abounding90 in wisdom, especially in this instance.
Two months before this woman had become disgusting, my friend M. Memmo, afterwards procurator, asked me to take him to her house. In the height of the conversation, what should come but a gondola, and we saw Count Rosemberg, the ambassador from Vienna, getting out of it. M. Memmo was thunderstruck (for a Venetian noble conversing91 with a foreign ambassador becomes guilty of treason to the state), and ran in hot haste from Ancilla’s room, I after him, but on the stair he met the ambassador, who, seeing his distress, burst into a laugh, and passed on. I got directly into M. Memmo’s gondola, and we went forthwith to M. Cavalli, secretary to the State Inquisitors. M. Memmo could have taken no better course to avoid the troublesome consequences which this fatal meeting might have had, and he was very glad that I was with him to testify to his innocence92 and to the harmlessness of the occurrence.
M. Cavalli received M. Memmo with a smile, and told him he did well to come to confession93 without wasting any time. M. Memmo, much astonished at this reception, told him the brief history of the meeting, and the secretary replied with a grave air that he had no doubt as to the truth of his story, as the circumstances were in perfect correspondence with what he knew of the matter.
We came away extremely puzzled at the secretary’s reply, and discussed the subject for some time, but then we came to the conclusion that M. Cavalli could have had no positive knowledge of the matter before we came, and that he only spoke as he did from the instinct of an Inquisitor, who likes it to be understood that nothing is hid from him for a moment.
After the death of Ancilla, Mr. Murray remained without a titular94 mistress, but, fluttering about like a butterfly, he had, one after another, the prettiest girls in Venice. This good-natured Epicurean set out for Constantinople two years later, and was for twenty years the ambassador of the Court of St. James at the Sublime95 Porte. He returned to Venice in 1778 with the intention of ending his days there, far from affairs of state, but he died in the lazaretto eight days before the completion of his quarantine.
At play fortune continued to favour me; my commerce with M—— M—— could not be discovered now that I was my own waterman; and the nuns96 who were in the secret were too deeply involved not to keep it. I led them a merry life, but I foresaw that as soon as M. de Bernis decided97 to let M—— M—— know that he would not return to Venice, he would recall his people, and we should then have the casino no longer. I knew, besides, that when the rough season came on it would be impossible for me by myself to continue our voyages.
The first Monday in October, when the theatres are opened and masks may be worn, I went to St. Francis to get my boat, and thence to Muran for my mistress, afterwards making for the casino. The nights were now long enough for us to have ample time for enjoyment98, so we began by making an excellent supper, and then devoted99 ourselves to the worship of Love and Sleep. Suddenly, in the midst of a moment of ecstasy100, I heard a noise in the direction of the canal, which aroused my suspicions, and I rushed to the window. What was my astonishment101 and anger to see a large boat taking mine in tow! Nevertheless, without giving way to my passion, I shouted to the robbers that I would give them ten sequins if they would be kind enough to return me my boat.
A shout of laughter was all the reply they made, and not believing what I said they continued their course. What was I to do? I dared not cry, “Stop thief!” and not being endued102 with the power of walking on the water dry-footed, I could not give chase to the robbers. I was in the utmost distress, and for the moment M—— M—— shewed signs of terror, for she did not see how I could remedy this disaster.
I dressed myself hastily, giving no more thoughts to love, my only comfort being that I had still two hours to get the indispensable boat, should it cost me a hundred sequins. I should have been in no perplexity if I had been able to take one, but the gondoliers would infallibly make proclamation over the whole of Muran that they had taken a nun to such a convent, and all would have been lost.
The only way, then, that was open to me was either to buy a boat or to steal one. I put my pistols and dagger103 in my pocket, took some money, and with an oar on my shoulder set out.
The robbers had filed the chain of my boat with a silent file; this I could not do, and I could only reckon on having the good luck to find a boat moored104 with cords.
Coming to the large bridge I saw boats and to spare, but there were people on the quay, and I would not risk taking one. Seeing a tavern105 open at the end of the quay I ran like a madman, and asked if there were any boatmen there; the drawer told me there were two, but that they were drunk. I came up to them, and said, “Who will take me to Venice for eighty sous?”
“I,” and “I”; and they began to quarrel as to who should go. I quieted them by giving forty sous to the more drunken of the two, and I went out with the other.
As soon as we were on our way, I said,
“You are too drunk to take me, lend me your boat, and I will give it you back to-morrow.”
“I don’t know you.”
“I will deposit ten sequins, but your boat is not worth that. Who will be your surety?”
He took me back to the tavern, and the drawer went bail106 for him. Well pleased, I took my man to the boat, and having furnished it with a second oar and two poles he went away, chuckling107 at having made a good bargain, while I was as glad to have had the worst of it. I had been an hour away, and on entering the casino found my dear M—— M—— in an agony, but as soon as she saw my beaming face all the laughter came back on hers. I took her to the convent, and then went to St. Francis, where the keeper of the boathouse looked as if he thought me a fool, when I told him that I had trucked away my boat for the one I had with me. I put on my mask, and went forthwith to my lodging108 and to bed, for these annoyances109 had been too much for me.
About this time my destiny made me acquainted with a nobleman called Mark Antony Zorzi, a man of parts and famous for his skill in writing verses in the Venetian dialect. Zorzi, who was very fond of the play, and desired to offer a sacrifice to Thalia, wrote a comedy which the audience took the liberty of hissing110; but having persuaded himself that his piece only failed through the conspiracies111 of the Abbe Chiari, who wrote for the Theatre of St. Angelo, he declared open war against all the abbe’s plays.
I felt no reluctance112 whatever to visit M. Zorzi, for he possessed113 an excellent cook and a charming wife. He knew that I did not care for Chiari as an author, and M. Zorzi had in his pay people who, without pity, rhyme, or reason, hissed114 all the compositions of the ecclesiastical playwright115. My part was to criticise116 them in hammer verses — a kind of doggerel117 then much in fashion, and Zorzi took care to distribute my lucubrations far and wide. These manoeuvres made me a powerful enemy in the person of M. Condulmer, who liked me none the better for having all the appearance of being in high favour with Madame Zorzi, to whom before my appearance he had paid diligent118 court. This M. Condulmer was to be excused for not caring for me, for, having a large share in the St. Angelo Theatre, the failure of the abbe’s pieces was a loss to him, as the boxes had to be let at a very low rent, and all men are governed by interested motives119.
This M. Condulmer was sixty years old, but with all the greenness of youth he was still fond of women, gaming, and money, and he was, in fact, a money-lender, but he knew how to pass for a saint, as he took care to go to mass every morning at St. Mark’s, and never omitted to shed tears before the crucifix. The following year he was made a councillor, and in that capacity he was for eight months a State Inquisitor. Having thus attained120 this diabolically-eminent, or eminently-diabolical, position, he had not much difficulty in shewing his colleagues the necessity of putting me under The Leads as a disturber of the peace of the Republic. In the beginning of the winter the astounding121 news of the treaty between France and Austria was divulged122 — a treaty by which the political balance was entirely readjusted, and which was received with incredulity by the Powers. The whole of Italy had reason to rejoice, for the treaty guarded that fair land from becoming the theatre of war on the slightest difference which might arise between the two Powers. What astonished the most acute was that this wonderful treaty was conceived and carried out by a young ambassador who had hitherto been famed only as a wit. The first foundations had been laid in 1750 by Madame de Pompadour, Count Canes123 (who was created a prince), and M. l’Abbe de Bernis, who was not known till the following year, when the king made him ambassador to Venice. The House of Bourbon and the House of Hapsburg had been foes124 for two hundred and forty years when this famous treaty was concluded, but it only lasted for forty years, and it is not likely that any treaty will last longer between two courts so essentially125 opposed to one another.
The Abbe de Bernis was created minister for foreign affairs some time after the ratification126 of the treaty; three years after he re- established the parliament, became a cardinal127, was disgraced, and finally sent to Rome, where he died. ‘Mors ultimo linea rerum est’.
Affairs fell out as I had foreseen, for nine months after he left Venice he conveyed to M—— M—— the news of his recall, though he did it in the most delicate manner. Nevertheless, M—— M—— felt the blow so severely128 that she would very possibly have succumbed130, had I not been preparing her for it in every way I could think of M. de Bernis sent me all instructions.
He directed that all the contents of the casino should be sold and the proceeds given to M—— M— — with the exception of the books and prints which the housekeeper was ordered to bring to Paris. It was a nice breviary for a cardinal, but would to God they had nothing worse!
Whilst M—— M—— abandoned herself to grief I carried out the orders of M. de Bernis, and by the middle of January we had no longer a casino. She kept by her two thousand sequins and her pearls, intending to sell them later on to buy herself an annuity131.
We were now only able to see each other at the grating; and soon, worn with grief, she fell dangerously ill, and on the 2nd of February I recognized in her features the symptoms of approaching death. She sent me her jewel-case, with all her diamonds and nearly all her money, all the scandalous books she possessed, and all her letters, telling me that if she did not die I was to return her the whole, but that all belonged to me if, as she thought, she should succumb129 to the disease. She also told me that C—— C—— was aware of her state, and asked me to take pity on her and write to her, as my letters were her only comfort, and that she hoped to have strength to read them till her latest breath.
I burst into tears, for I loved her passionately132, and I promised her to come and live in Muran until she recovered her health.
Having placed the property in a gondola, I went to the Bragadin Palace to deposit it, and then returned to Muran to get Laura to find me a furnished room where I could live as I liked. “I know of a good room, with meals provided,” she said; “you will be quite comfortable and will get it cheaply, and if you like to pay in advance, you need not even say who you are. The old man to whom the house belongs lives on the ground floor; he will give you all the keys and if you like you need see no one.”
She gave me the address, and I went there on the spot, and having found everything to my liking133 I paid a month in advance and the thing was done. It was a little house at the end of a blind alley134 abutting135 on the canal. I returned to Laura’s house to tell her that I wanted a servant to get my food and to make my bed, and she promised to get me one by the next day.
Having set all in order for my new lodging, I returned to Venice and packed my mails as if I were about to make a long journey. After supper I took leave of M. de Bragadin and of his two friends, telling them that I was going to be away for several weeks on important business.
Next day, going to my new room, I was surprised to find there Tonine, Laura’s daughter, a pretty girl not more than fifteen years old, who told me with a blush, but with more spirit than I gave her credit for, that she would serve me as well as her mother would have done.
I was in too much distress to thank Laura for this pretty present, and I even determined136 that her daughter should not stay in my service. We know how much such resolutions are commonly worth. In the meanwhile I was kind to the girl: “I am sure,” I said, “of your goodwill137, but I must talk to your mother. I must be alone,” I added, “as I have to write all day, and I shall not take anything till the evening.” She then gave me a letter, begging pardon for not having given it me sooner. “You must never forget to deliver messages,” I said, “for if you had waited any longer before bringing me this letter, it might have had the most serious consequences.” She blushed, begged pardon, and went out of the room. The letter was from C—— C— — who told me that her friend was in bed, and that the doctor had pronounced her illness to be fever. I passed the rest of the day in putting my room in order, and in writing to C—— C—— and her suffering friend.
Towards evening Tonine brought in the candles, and told me that my supper was ready. “Follow me,” I said. Seeing that she had only laid supper for one — a pleasing proof of her modesty138, I told her to get another knife and fork, as I wished her always to take her meals with me. I can give no account of my motives. I only wished to be kind to her, and I did everything in good faith. By and by, reader, we shall see whether this is not one of the devices by which the devil compasses his ends.
Not having any appetite, I ate little, but I thought everything good with the exception of the wine; but Tonine promised to get some better by the next day, and when supper was over she went to sleep in the ante-room.
After sealing my letters, wishing to know whether the outer door was locked, I went out and saw Tonine in bed, sleeping peacefully, or pretending to do so. I might have suspected her thoughts, but I had never been in a similar situation, and I measured the extremity139 of my grief by the indifference140 with which I looked at this girl; she was pretty, but for all that I felt that neither she nor I ran any risk.
Next day, waking very early, I called her, and she came in neatly141 dressed. I gave her my letter to C—— C— — which enclosed the letter to M—— M— — telling her to take it to her mother and then to return to make my coffee.
“I shall dine at noon, Tonine,” I said, “take care to get what is necessary in good time.”
“Sir, I prepared yesterday’s supper myself, and if you like I can cook all your meals.”
“I am satisfied with your abilities, go on, and here is a sequin for expenses.”
“I still have a hundred and twenty sous remaining from the one you gave me yesterday, and that will be enough.”
“No, they are for yourself, and I shall give you as much every day.”
Her delight was so great that I could not prevent her covering my hand with kisses. I took care to draw it back and not to kiss her in return, for I felt as if I should be obliged to laugh, and this would have dishonoured142 my grief.
The second day passed like the first. Tonine was glad that I said no more about speaking to her mother, and drew the conclusion that her services were agreeable to me. Feeling tired and weak, and fearing that I should not wake early enough to send the letter to the convent, but not wishing to rouse Tonine if she were asleep, I called her softly. She rose immediately and came into my room with nothing on but a slight petticoat. Pretending to see nothing, I gave her my letter, and told her to take it to her mother in the morning before she came into my room. She went out, saying that my instructions should be carried out, but as soon as she was gone I could not resist saying to myself that she was very pretty; and I felt both sad and ashamed at the reflection that this girl could very easily console me. I hugged my grief, and I determined to separate myself from a being who made me forget it.
“In the morning,” I said, “I will tell Laura to get me something less seducing;” but the night brought counsel, and in the morning I put on the armour143 of sophism144, telling myself that my weakness was no fault of the girl’s, and that it would therefore be unjust to punish her for it. We shall see, dear reader, how all this ended.
点击
收听单词发音
收听单词发音 |
1
peril
|
|
| n.(严重的)危险；危险的事物 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
2
brink
|
|
| n.(悬崖、河流等的)边缘，边沿 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
3
seducing
|
|
| 诱奸( seduce的现在分词 )； 勾引； 诱使堕落； 使入迷 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
4
fidelity
|
|
| n.忠诚，忠实；精确 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
5
delicacy
|
|
| n.精致，细微，微妙，精良；美味，佳肴 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
6
tempting
|
|
| a.诱人的, 吸引人的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
7
mere
|
|
| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
8
consolation
|
|
| n.安慰，慰问 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
9
seclusion
|
|
| n.隐遁，隔离 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
10
melancholy
|
|
| n.忧郁，愁思；adj.令人感伤（沮丧）的，忧郁的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
11
witty
|
|
| adj.机智的，风趣的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
12
profligate
|
|
| adj.行为不检的；n.放荡的人，浪子，肆意挥霍者 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
13
amorous
|
|
| adj.多情的；有关爱情的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
14
recess
|
|
| n.短期休息，壁凹（墙上装架子，柜子等凹处） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
15
appeased
|
|
| 安抚，抚慰( appease的过去式和过去分词 )； 绥靖（满足另一国的要求以避免战争） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
16
soften
|
|
| v.(使)变柔软；(使)变柔和 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
17
softened
|
|
| （使）变软( soften的过去式和过去分词 )； 缓解打击； 缓和； 安慰 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
18
spoke
|
|
| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
19
intervals
|
|
| n.[军事]间隔( interval的名词复数 )；间隔时间；[数学]区间；（戏剧、电影或音乐会的）幕间休息 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
20
mechanism
|
|
| n.机械装置；机构，结构 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
21
distress
|
|
| n.苦恼，痛苦，不舒适；不幸；vt.使悲痛 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
22
distressed
|
|
| 痛苦的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
23
prudence
|
|
| n.谨慎，精明，节俭 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
24
intercourse
|
|
| n.性交；交流，交往，交际 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
25
conceal
|
|
| v.隐藏，隐瞒，隐蔽 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
26
nun
|
|
| n.修女，尼姑 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
27
connives
|
|
| v.密谋 ( connive的第三人称单数 )；搞阴谋；默许；纵容 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
|
28
housekeeper
|
|
| n.管理家务的主妇，女管家 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
29
discreet
|
|
| adj.(言行)谨慎的；慎重的；有判断力的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
30
discreetly
|
|
| ad.(言行)审慎地，慎重地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
31
affected
|
|
| adj.不自然的，假装的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
32
entreated
|
|
| 恳求，乞求( entreat的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
33
entreat
|
|
| v.恳求，恳请 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
34
concealing
|
|
| v.隐藏，隐瞒，遮住( conceal的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
35
predecessor
|
|
| n.前辈，前任 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
36
procured
|
|
| v.（努力）取得， （设法）获得( procure的过去式和过去分词 )；拉皮条 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
37
vows
|
|
| 誓言( vow的名词复数 )； 郑重宣布，许愿 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
38
mar
|
|
| vt.破坏，毁坏，弄糟 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
39
prudent
|
|
| adj.谨慎的，有远见的，精打细算的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
40
alleviation
|
|
| n. 减轻，缓和，解痛物 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
41
fully
|
|
| adv.完全地，全部地，彻底地；充分地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
42
afflicted
|
|
| 使受痛苦，折磨( afflict的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
43
disposition
|
|
| n.性情，性格；意向，倾向；排列，部署 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
44
intensified
|
|
| v.（使）增强， （使）加剧( intensify的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
45
cloister
|
|
| n.修道院；v.隐退，使与世隔绝 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
46
unbearable
|
|
| adj.不能容忍的；忍受不住的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
47
entreating
|
|
| 恳求，乞求( entreat的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
48
standing
|
|
| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
49
nave
|
|
| n.教堂的中部；本堂 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
50
promising
|
|
| adj.有希望的，有前途的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
51
inclinations
|
|
| 倾向( inclination的名词复数 )； 倾斜； 爱好； 斜坡 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
52
oar
|
|
| n.桨，橹，划手；v.划行 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
53
gondola
|
|
| n.威尼斯的平底轻舟；飞船的吊船 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
54
quay
|
|
| n.码头，靠岸处 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
55
shudder
|
|
| v.战粟，震动，剧烈地摇晃；n.战粟，抖动 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
56
toil
|
|
| vi.辛劳工作，艰难地行动；n.苦工，难事 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
57
fixed
|
|
| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
58
frail
|
|
| adj.身体虚弱的；易损坏的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
59
perspiration
|
|
| n.汗水；出汗 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
60
linen
|
|
| n.亚麻布，亚麻线，亚麻制品；adj.亚麻布制的，亚麻的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
61
admiration
|
|
| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
62
bliss
|
|
| n.狂喜，福佑，天赐的福 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
63
sufficiently
|
|
| adv.足够地，充分地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
64
drawn
|
|
| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
65
joyous
|
|
| adj.充满快乐的；令人高兴的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
66
Augmented
|
|
| adj.增音的 动词augment的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
67
climax
|
|
| n.顶点；高潮；v.(使)达到顶点 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
68
gale
|
|
| n.大风，强风，一阵闹声（尤指笑声等） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
69
tyrant
|
|
| n.暴君，专制的君主，残暴的人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
70
outlast
|
|
| v.较…耐久 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
71
relaxation
|
|
| n.松弛，放松；休息；消遣；娱乐 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
72
impel
|
|
| v.推动；激励，迫使 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
73
memoirs
|
|
| n.回忆录；回忆录传( mem,自oir的名词复数) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
74
prophesied
|
|
| v.预告，预言( prophesy的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
75
inevitable
|
|
| adj.不可避免的，必然发生的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
76
voluptuous
|
|
| adj.肉欲的，骄奢淫逸的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
77
mingling
|
|
| adj.混合的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
78
strife
|
|
| n.争吵，冲突，倾轧，竞争 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
79
avow
|
|
| v.承认，公开宣称 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
80
entirely
|
|
| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
81
repugnance
|
|
| n.嫌恶 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
82
hoarse
|
|
| adj.嘶哑的，沙哑的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
83
lascivious
|
|
| adj.淫荡的，好色的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
84
hideous
|
|
| adj.丑陋的，可憎的，可怕的，恐怖的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
85
celebrated
|
|
| adj.有名的，声誉卓著的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
86
dint
|
|
| n.由于，靠；凹坑 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
87
specified
|
|
| adj.特定的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
88
magistrate
|
|
| n.地方行政官，地方法官，治安官 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
89
binding
|
|
| 有约束力的，有效的，应遵守的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
90
abounding
|
|
| adj.丰富的，大量的v.大量存在，充满，富于( abound的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
91
conversing
|
|
| v.交谈，谈话( converse的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
92
innocence
|
|
| n.无罪；天真；无害 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
93
confession
|
|
| n.自白，供认，承认 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
94
titular
|
|
| adj.名义上的，有名无实的；n.只有名义（或头衔）的人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
95
sublime
|
|
| adj.崇高的，伟大的；极度的，不顾后果的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
96
nuns
|
|
| n.（通常指基督教的）修女， （佛教的）尼姑( nun的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
97
decided
|
|
| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
98
enjoyment
|
|
| n.乐趣；享有；享用 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
99
devoted
|
|
| adj.忠诚的，忠实的，热心的，献身于...的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
100
ecstasy
|
|
| n.狂喜，心醉神怡，入迷 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
101
astonishment
|
|
| n.惊奇，惊异 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
102
endued
|
|
| v.授予，赋予（特性、才能等）( endue的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
103
dagger
|
|
| n.匕首，短剑，剑号 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
104
moored
|
|
| adj. 系泊的 动词moor的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
105
tavern
|
|
| n.小旅馆，客栈；小酒店 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
106
bail
|
|
| v.舀（水），保释；n.保证金，保释，保释人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
107
chuckling
|
|
| 轻声地笑( chuckle的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
108
lodging
|
|
| n.寄宿，住所；(大学生的)校外宿舍 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
109
annoyances
|
|
| n.恼怒( annoyance的名词复数 )；烦恼；打扰；使人烦恼的事 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
110
hissing
|
|
| n. 发嘶嘶声, 蔑视 动词hiss的现在分词形式 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
111
conspiracies
|
|
| n.阴谋，密谋( conspiracy的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
112
reluctance
|
|
| n.厌恶，讨厌，勉强，不情愿 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
113
possessed
|
|
| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
114
hissed
|
|
| 发嘶嘶声( hiss的过去式和过去分词 )； 发嘘声表示反对 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
115
playwright
|
|
| n.剧作家，编写剧本的人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
116
criticise
|
|
| v.批评，评论；非难 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
117
doggerel
|
|
| n.拙劣的诗，打油诗 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
118
diligent
|
|
| adj.勤勉的，勤奋的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
119
motives
|
|
| n.动机，目的( motive的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
120
attained
|
|
| （通常经过努力）实现( attain的过去式和过去分词 )； 达到； 获得； 达到（某年龄、水平、状况） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
121
astounding
|
|
| adj.使人震惊的vt.使震惊，使大吃一惊astound的现在分词) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
122
divulged
|
|
| v.吐露，泄露( divulge的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
123
canes
|
|
| n.（某些植物，如竹或甘蔗的）茎( cane的名词复数 )；（用于制作家具等的）竹竿；竹杖 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
124
foes
|
|
| 敌人，仇敌( foe的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
125
essentially
|
|
| adv.本质上，实质上，基本上 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
126
ratification
|
|
| n.批准，认可 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
127
cardinal
|
|
| n.(天主教的)红衣主教；adj.首要的，基本的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
128
severely
|
|
| adv.严格地；严厉地；非常恶劣地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
129
succumb
|
|
| v.屈服，屈从；死 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
130
succumbed
|
|
| 不再抵抗（诱惑、疾病、攻击等）( succumb的过去式和过去分词 )； 屈从； 被压垮； 死 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
131
annuity
|
|
| n.年金；养老金 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
132
passionately
|
|
| ad.热烈地，激烈地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
133
liking
|
|
| n.爱好；嗜好；喜欢 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
134
alley
|
|
| n.小巷，胡同；小径，小路 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
135
abutting
|
|
| adj.邻接的v.（与…）邻接( abut的现在分词 )；（与…）毗连；接触；倚靠 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
136
determined
|
|
| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
137
goodwill
|
|
| n.善意，亲善，信誉，声誉 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
138
modesty
|
|
| n.谦逊，虚心，端庄，稳重，羞怯，朴素 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
139
extremity
|
|
| n.末端，尽头；尽力；终极；极度 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
140
indifference
|
|
| n.不感兴趣，不关心，冷淡，不在乎 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
141
neatly
|
|
| adv.整洁地，干净地，灵巧地，熟练地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
142
dishonoured
|
|
| a.不光彩的，不名誉的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
143
armour
|
|
| （=armor）n.盔甲；装甲部队 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
144
sophism
|
|
| n.诡辩 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
| 欢迎访问英文小说网 |